


Moya Dusha

by AMac0218



Category: Marvel AU - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMac0218/pseuds/AMac0218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pregnant Natasha fic based after "A Tap of Mjölnir". Follows Natasha's pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moya Dusha

**Author's Note:**

> The fic was wanted so I figured I'd give it a shot. Hope you like it! Marvel AU.
> 
> Moya Dusha = "My soul"/ "My heart"

**Eight weeks** after Thor tapped Mjölnir to the ground, Natasha had snaked her way up Clint’s body, kissing him and setting comfortably on his hips. She had taken his hand and pressed it against her lower stomach and it all hit him like a ton of bricks to the back of the head, or like one of her spider bites to the family jewels. “Holy crap…,” Clint had mumbled, his heart swelling with pride.

He’d wrapped her in his arms, his mouth sealing against hers as he rolled them over and spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in bed, the smile only leaving their faces when they were in the throes of passion.

Later that night Natasha bolted up from bed and made a b-line for the bathroom. Clint’s got up in a flash, woken from sleep, and followed. He pushed open the door and saw her on her knees, her whole body heaving over the toilet.

He knelt down beside her and held back her hair, rubbing her back gently. When she’s finished he presses a kiss to her temple, “You’re pregnant,” he said, chuckling against her hair. He reached over and pushed down the handle to flush, “When did you get Chipotle?”

“When you were asleep earlier.”

“And you didn’t get me any?” he asked, pulling back a little and feigning a gasp and putting a hand over his chest. “Well, serves you right then…not getting me Chipotle…now we both don’t have any in our stomachs.”

She chuckled a little and shook her head. After she brushed her teeth, he as he bent down and picked her up, bringing her back to bed.

 **At eleven weeks** , Natasha still had morning sickness every morning, and some days it would make Clint nauseous. She’d gotten migraines that got so bad she snapped at Clint whenever he made a noise, and along with the migraines came the mood swings, something that was entirely dangerous for anyone around the assassin.

Clint was seated next to her as she read _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_. “You know you should really read this,” Natasha said as she lifted the book a little and tapped the cover.

He nodded, “Mhm…I’ll read it when you’re done.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to reading.

After a moment Clint felt a tickle in his nose, causing him to move it and twist it a little before his face contorted and his body moved fast with a sneeze he was pretty sure came from his toes.

“Jesus, Clint, what the hell?!” Natasha glared at him. “Could you not do that?”

“Not sneeze?”

“Yes!”

“Uhm…,”

“Know what? Forget it.” With that she got up and went into her bedroom and slammed the door, leaving the archer completely confused.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Tony asking about mood swings.

After a moment his phone rang and he read ‘ _Yup. Completely normal. You know you should really read “What to Expect When You’re Expecting_ ”.’

Clint rolled his eyes, ‘ _Yeah, thanks for that_ ,’ he wrote back.

 **At twelve weeks** , Natasha and Clint went to another appointment for an ultrasound.

The first one came back normal, which was a relief to everyone, though the archer couldn’t make heads or tails of the sonogram picture, even with his amazing vision.

He takes his usual seat next to Natasha as she lays out on the medical chair, her shirt up and around her midriff as she waited for the doctor to start the exam. After the internal part of it, the doctor put the gel on her stomach and moved the wand around until she found it, and Clint didn’t need his eyesight to see that the blob of grey in the last picture now looked more like a human baby.

He felt his heart hitch up in his throat, his hand grasping Natasha’s as her breath caught. He looked over at her, a smile on his face. He noticed that the spy couldn’t help the tear that rolled down her cheek, and he reached over to brush it away, knowing that she’d probably feel too vulnerable with the doctor in the room and her openly crying; and he didn’t want to hear her yelling about that later.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead before he helped her wipe the gel off her stomach, taking the picture from the doctor and thanking her, bowing his head a little before he went back over to Natasha. “Holy crap,” he said again.

“Is that going to be your catchphrase during this whole thing?” she asked as she gave a breathy laugh and rested her forehead on his temple, the both of them looking at the picture.

“Maybe,” he answered. After a long moment he smiled, “He totally has my eyes,” Clint joked, earning a small swat to his shoulder before they left the building.

 **At sixteen weeks** Natasha noticed the change in her body. She had gotten out of the shower, while Clint lingered in there taking his sweet time, humming to himself.

The spy opened the bathroom door just a little to let out the steam and wiped at the mirror before she leaned in close, her eyes widening. She quickly turned to the shower and threw open the shower door.

“Holy shit, Nat!” Clint said as he jumped a little embarrassed that he’d been so easily caught off guard. To be fair, he hadn’t been expecting anyone to rip the shower door off the hinges, not that it had hinges. Figure of speech.

“Look at me,” she said as she stood in front of him sans towel, her hands at her side.

“Yeah, you’re naked.” He tilted his head back to get the shampoo from his hair before he turned off the water when he was done.

“No, Clint…look,” she pointed at the small stretch marks that had started to form in certain places.

He shrugged, “Yeah, so?”

“ ‘Yeah, so’,” she mocked, dropping her voice to complete it. “What the Hell do you mean ‘Yeah, so’?”

“I noticed it a few days ago.”

“You…,” she trailed off, her eyes narrowing.

‘Dammit..,’ Clint thought to himself.

“You noticed a few days ago?”

“Well…yeah you were…we had just gotten back from dinner and you were dropping your dress before you unzipped my slacks and did that thing with your mouth and-,”

“Stop!” she said to him, lifting her hand and pressing her fingers to her temples.

“C’mon, Nat…you look fine,” he said as he stepped out of the shower. “You’re beautiful…pregnant…beautiful and pregnant,” he nodded. “You look amazing…it’s just a little bit of stretching.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently, cupping her face. “Don’t get upset about them, okay?” he asked as he brushed his nose against hers a little.

She gave him a small smile back as she nodded and agreed. “Besides, they’re just going to get bigger…it’s no big deal.” Clint swore her eyes turned as red as her hair, and he was up and running to the elevator in their floor loft, the doors closing right when a knife bounced off the metal of it.

The archer panted and froze when he realized someone was in the elevator with him. His eyes widened as he looked over at Tony who was sipping on a Capri Sun, a smirk on his lips.

“What’d you say?” he asked, chewing on the straw which was still in the pouch.

“We talked about the stretch marks…and I said they weren’t a big deal.”

Tony shook his head, “Why don’t you just walk around with your shoe in your mouth all the time? I’m surprised she didn’t kill you…what was that that hit the elevator?”

He shrugged a shoulder, “A knife.”

The billionaire nodded, “Thought she would have shot you.”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence before he sipped the Capri Sun again, making a slurping sound since it was obviously empty before he said, “You’re just in a towel.”

“…Yeah…”

 **At eighteen weeks** , the pair were back at their doctor’s office getting another ultrasound, only now they were going to find out what they were having.

“So Stark has twenty bucks it’s a boy, and Thor has twenty it’s a girl…though I don’t really know what he’s going to do with the money…” Natasha said as she got up on the medical table and laid down.

“Yeah for real, what would Thor do with twenty bucks? Put it in a museum up on Asgard? Laugh at our pitiful form of currency?”

She shrugged as she lifted her shirt, her stomach now more round. It’s round enough to where Clint caught Natasha with her hand at the small of her back whenever she got up off the couch, but thankfully he was smart enough to not open his mouth about it. Finally. The doctor put the gel on, just like she always did, and the two had their eyes focused on the screen, not daring to look away.

“The baby looks good…the heart beat is strong and perfect,” she smiled at them. “Do you want to know what you’re having?”

“Yes.” They answer at the same time.

She nodded and moved the wand around a little more, “And it looks like we can put a pronoun to this baby. Congratulations, you’re having a girl,” she smiled.

“A girl…,” Clint said, completely at a loss for words. “Holy crap.”

Natasha laughed as she leaned over and kissed Clint’s cheek before her eyes went back to the screen.

When they got home they showed everyone the pictures and Tony sighed as he handed over the money to Thor who was beaming.

“What are you even gonna do with that, Bob the Builder?”

“I do not know…Perhaps I’ll buy as many of those squared pastries in the foil as I can with it.”

“Pop tarts? You want to buy pop tarts….well great…glad my money is being well spent.”

Later that evening, Natasha startled on the couch, causing Clint to do the same, looking over at her, “What? What are you okay?” he asked her, his mind spinning.

However, instead of looking scared, her eyes are shining and full of love and happiness, and he swears he sees her being completely remade, walls falling down faster than they were put up. Instead of answering she reaches forward and takes his hand, setting it on her stomach. “Wait,” she said to him, smiling.

He stilled, his hand pressed to her stomach as he waited. Then he feels it. It’s a thump and then another one against his palm. “Tasha she’s-,”

She nodded and leaned down, cupping his face in her palms, kissing him gently, something he was both surprised about and downright giddy over. If he could use that term. Later that night, Clint was woken up when Natasha shifted and he heard her start to quietly speak. He pretended to still be sleeping as he listened to what she was saying.

“I’m not…really sure how to do this,” she said quietly, making Clint smile a bit, glad that his back was to her. “Your dad and I…we live…dangerous lives and…I’m probably going to apologize a lot and have no idea what I’m doing…and I can’t promise that your dad will know either…we weren’t raised the way kids should be raised but…we do love you, even if we screw up.” She gently rubbed her stomach a few times before she smiled, whispering a quiet “Moya Dusha.”

 **At twenty six weeks** , he catches her talking to her stomach more and more, though she tried to hide it. He was doing it now too, though, so it made it a little better.

They were settled in their bed, his arm around her thighs as he pressed his lips to her stomach a few times, smiling as he brushed his stubble back and forth over her skin. They’ve decided to name her Alexandra Catherine, though they hadn’t decided which last name to give her.

“Okay, Alex, listen to daddy for a minute….If you want Barton for a last name, give me a kick,” he paused, and felt nothing. “Okay….that hurt daddy. If you want Romanoff, give me a kick.” Again there was nothing. “Well at least she hurt you back,” he smirked up at Natasha who shoved his face a little before he went back to kissing her belly. He sighed as he rested his ear against it, feeling a thump against his cheek, “Mean.” He said to her. “She really is your daughter…kicking me in the face.”

Natasha smiled as she played with his hair a little, “Barton.”

“Hm?” he mumbled, his eyes closed, completely comfortable in the current moment.

“No…I want her last name to be Barton.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her, “Are you sure?”

She nodded and Clint felt the giddiness he’d gotten used to feeling whenever he thought about his daughter and kissed Natasha, not able to stop smiling against her mouth. “Marry me,” he said to her as he pulled back.

“What?”

“Marry me…we don’t have to make it a big thing…we can keep it quiet…just…go sign some papers.”

She nodded as she kissed him again, “Yes.”

 **At twenty seven weeks** , Clint is pulled away on business, leaving Natasha alone on her floor of the Avenger’s building. Fury needed him on an assignment, nothing SHIELD related, but no one was allowed to know what was going on.

At night Natasha got to hear his voice when he called, even though he wasn’t supposed to be calling. She smiled as he told her to put the phone to her stomach, letting him talk to the baby. “I just don’t want her to forget my voice, Tasha,” he explained. He’d talk to her about his day, tell her he loved her, and read to her from the back of whatever he was eating that day.

When Nat was alone she rubbed her stomach and sang quiet Russian lullabies to her, her arms wrapped around her stomach wanting to hold onto something that was part Clint. She didn’t know when she started to get so sentimental, it was what she’d been scared of her whole life, but she also knew that if the time ever came, her sentimentality would not get in the way of protecting what was hers. Theirs.

 **At twenty eight weeks** , Natasha gets a call that Clint has gone missing.

She’s spent the day she found out numb, all but staring at the wall, her hand moving in mindless circles over her stomach. Pepper came up to the loft and JARVIS let her in and the other woman made her dinner and hung out on the couch.

“He’s going to come back,” Pepper told her.

Natasha fought back the ‘You don’t know that’, which was the regular knee jerk thing to say, and instead just looked over at her and asked, “How do you know?”

“Because he has too much to live for now,” she answered simply, giving the red head a small smile as her eyes widened and turned a little glassy, her hand going for her stomach again.

 **At thirty eight weeks** she goes into labor, and Clint is still missing.

Tony had been out searching for two weeks and hadn’t reported in the day she feels the contractions hit. Pepper is calmly walking her down to the car while Steve is moving about fast, panicking as Natasha watched with an arched eyebrow, finding the situation amusing in between the pain that ripped through her.

After they are finally in the car, which took fifteen minutes, mostly because Steve continued to forget things in the building, they headed toward the hospital, Pepper trying to get Tony on the phone and letting out a frustrated grumble as she hung up, telling JARVIS to keep trying.

Twelve hours of labor went by, and Natasha had given one last push, and the room filled with a cry.

The previous assassin slumped back into the bed as she panted, Steve wiping her forehead with a cloth as he smiled down at her. She had been grateful for him having been there to coach her, but she couldn’t help but feel devastated that Clint had missed the birth of their daughter.

She was handed the baby, wrapped in a small white blanket after she was cleaned up a little. She looked down at her, a gasp leaving her mouth as she brushed her thumb over the baby’s blonde eyebrow and then over her small cheek. “Alexandra…,” was all she said as a feeling of happiness flooded her system.

When she was wheeled into her recovery room, she was propped up with a bunch of pillows, the baby snuggled perfectly into her arm while Steve stood vigilant by her bedside, always the gentleman. The man at her bedside shouldn’t be Captain America, though, and that thought kept stabbing at the back of her head.

Natasha felt the hitch of emotion in her throat again and felt the strain at the back of her eyes, “Steve get out.”

“But-,”

“Please..”

He looked at her for a moment and then gave one nod before he headed out the room, and stood by the door instead.

Natasha looked down at Alexandra and her chin quivered as tears spilled down her cheeks and she curled her upper body over the baby as she cried, her shoulders and bodies shaking as she squeezed her eyes shut. Eventually she fell asleep, exhausted from the delivery and from the emotion that had poured out of her that day.

Steve was crammed up in a chair when the door opened.

He woke up fast, ready to defend Natasha and the baby, or hit Tony if it was him who dared to disturb her sleep. “Clint…”

The archer gave him a small smile as he limped over to him. “I can take it from here,” he said as he held out his hand, giving the Captain’s a firm shake. “Thank you for everything.”

Steve nodded, patting him on the shoulder, noticing him wince, “Sorry.”

After the other man left, Clint managed to hobble his way over to the baby, looking down at her as she shifted in her sleep. He brushed her eyebrow with his knuckle gently before he sat down in the chair next to the bed, carefully pulling the baby into his embrace. She fit perfectly in his arms, almost like she had been destined to be there all along. He leaned down and pulled in a breath and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m so sorry I missed your big day,” he said quietly. “But one day when you’re older…I might tell you why…”

When the light clicked on he saw the rage on Natasha’s face before she registered who it was. “Clint.” She said, her voice wavering as tears flooded her eyes again.

“Hey, Tasha,” he gave her a half smile.

“What happened?”

The archer looked down at the brace on his leg that kept his knee stable and unmoving, knowing her eyes were on the gash that went across his forehead too, “You should see under the shirt,” he said, giving her the same half smile, trying to make the situation better. “I got caught on the mission…Tony found me…but let’s leave it at that, okay?” He asked. “This is a happy time, look,” he gestured to the baby. “She’s beautiful...the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…our daughter.” He looked down at small warm bundle in his arms as she yawned and snuggled closer to Clint.

After a few more moments, the baby’s eyes opened and moved around the dimly lit room, “Told you she had my eyes,” he mumbled as he leaned close to Natasha and kissed her gently.


End file.
